


The Adventures of Freeze-Flame and Electro

by krazieLeylines



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 10:57:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12982593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krazieLeylines/pseuds/krazieLeylines
Summary: Yuuri and Phichit are superheroes by night, but journalists for the supremely popular newspaperThe Back Alley Timesby day. Viktor is their unsuspecting boss. But when one of Viktor's stories ruffles some feathers, it's up to Freeze-Flame and Electro to save the day!My Yuri!!! on Ice Secret Santa gift fortumblr user amberultramarine





	The Adventures of Freeze-Flame and Electro

“Yuuri, listen to this nonsense.”

Yuuri made a sound under his breath, but didn’t pull his gaze away from his computer. Nor did he slow down his typing; the Thursday evening deadline was arriving faster than expected, as per usual.

Phichit stood up, cleared his throat, and began to read the letter in his hand:

“Dear Back Alley Guru, I’m having a fight with my sister-in-law that’s tearing our family apart. It’s almost been going on for a year now, and I’m at my wit’s end. She refuses to use the soda machine we got her last Christmas. It’s out on the counter, in the same spot, every time we visit, but it’s clearly never been used. Instead, when I ask for soda, she brings up ginger ale from her cooler downstairs. I’ve tried asking her about it, but she insists that she does use it. I’ve asked her to prove it, to show us that she knows how to use it, but she always ‘doesn’t feel like it’. How convenient! I’m starting to consider just not getting her a gift this year. What should I do?”

Yuuri snorted a few times as he listened, though it was not unlike most of the strange letters Phichit received weekly.

“Can you believe that? Someone wrote to me about a _soda machine_. How do you stay mad over a soda machine for _an entire year?_ Do they really need me telling them to just let it go already?” Phichit was rolling his eyes; Yuuri could tell from his tone of voice.

Yuuri paused, ending the paragraph he was working on. He skimmed it over quickly for any awkward wording. Then, satisfied for the moment, Yuuri finally looked over at Phichit.

His Thai American friend wrote for the advice column for _The Back Alley Times_ , while Yuuri was in charge of the ‘Local Heroes’ section. He spent most of his time interviewing and writing about notable community members and their charity work. It was far from the most interesting or popular section of _The Back Alley Times,_ but at least Yuuri didn’t write for the advice column.

Phichit, with his naturally sociable personality, always seemed to know just what to say. Yuuri, on the other hand, gave horrible advice.

“It’s strange, the sorts of things that people get upset about,” Yuuri said. He stretched out his back, and sighed in relief and pleasure as his spine popped. “I received an angry email earlier today. He demanded that I write about Starlight as the next ‘Local Hero’. I had to explain that I deliberately choose non-superhero heroes, since the majority of _The Back Alley Times_ articles are already about superheroes. So, I wanted to shine a light on those heroes who don’t wear tights and capes. And, if he wanted to read an article about Starlight, there were many to choose from. We’ve written about her many times before.” Yuuri stopped, scowling at the memory.

“And...?” Phichit prompted.

“He replied back within minutes,” Yuuri answered, “He told me to ‘piss off’. That was the entire response. Just those two words. ‘Piss off’.”

Phichit chuckled at Yuuri’s dark tone and murderous face. 

Despite how often Yuuri and Phichit liked to complain about their job, however, they both genuinely enjoyed it. Yuuri returned his attention to the article he was writing with renewed fervor. _It has to be perfect,_ he told himself. Anything less than perfect was unacceptable.

Yuuri reread what he had so far:

_Viktor Nikiforov_   
_The Hero’s Hero_

_By the age of only sixteen, Viktor Nikiforov had already become the Detroit superhero community’s most indispensable ally... though nobody yet knew his name. Online, he went by the moniker_ Frank Truth, _before revealing his true identity in June of 2012. Nikiforov, as Truth, ran a widely read blog titled ‘Superhero Watch’. In it, Nikiforov took meticulous notes concerning all supervillain activity in Detroit, and encouraged others to submit their own information, too._

_Many Detroit superheroes credited their increasing success rates to ‘Superhero Watch’. With it, they could track where supervillains had been, what their powers and weaknesses were, and other useful trivia. Nikiforov later convinced licensed behavioral analyst Christophe Giacometti to contribute to the blog._

_After five years of internet fame, Nikiforov announced his intent to start a newspaper,_ The Back Alley Times, _a copy of which you now hold in your hands. It is, in Nikiforov’s words, an ‘extension of Superhero Watch’. Its goal: To force the supervillains of Detroit out of the dark alleys and shadows, and into the public eye. It is as Nikiforov so famously wrote in his online post_ The Truth About The Dark: _It is not the darkness that you fear, but the unknown. Force any fiend into the light, and you will find that he does not look half as menacing as he did when he was just a figure skulking around in the shadows._

Yuuri smiled, proud of his work.

The day was December 19th. In two days’ time, Yuuri would have to complete the article to have it included in next week’s newspaper, their last publication of the year. Yuuri had written a backup article, just in case he chickened out, but he _really_ wanted to do this for Viktor, his boss. After all, Christmas was also Viktor’s birthday. Yuuri was horrible at picking out gifts, so instead he decided to surprise Viktor with an article celebrating everything the man had accomplished. It was the least Yuuri could do.

“Wow, I wonder what you’re thinking about.” That was Phichit, who startled Yuuri out of his thoughts with his playful teasing. “You always get the goofiest smile on your face when you’re thinking about him,” Phichit continued, “It’s adorable.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Yuuri hid his embarrassment behind his coffee mug. It had gone cold hours ago, as it so often did. Yuuri had an annoying habit of becoming hyper-focused on his work, to the point of forgetting to eat and drink. So while he didn’t prefer his coffee lukewarm, he had more or less gotten used to it.

“ _Sooooo_ adorable,” Phichit repeated, before retreating back behind his cubicle wall.

—

Later, after lunch, Yuuri met with Leo outside Viktor’s office. He clutched his camera to his chest and steadied his breaths.

Leo de la Iglesia, _The Back Alley Times’_ social media manager, gave Yuuri a patient smile. The two of them had practiced their bit with Phichit (playing the role of Viktor) early that morning, but now that they were about to execute it, both of them were nervous. Leo, at least, was better at hiding it.

Their plan was this: Yuuri wanted a picture of Viktor in his office for his article, so they were going to tell Viktor that they needed a new picture of him for his profile on the website (which was, admittedly, a couple of years old).

However, when Yuuri knocked on Viktor’s door, no response came. He waited a second, and then knocked again. “Sir? Can we come in?”

There was only silence.

Leo frowned. “That’s strange,” he said, “Do you think he fell asleep? He has been working longer hours lately.”

“Fell asleep? No, he probably just stepped out,” Yuuri replied.

“No, I would have noticed. My desk looks straight at his office.” Leo paused to remember. “Viktor entered his office this morning with his breakfast bagel, as per usual. And then he left once to say something to Seung-gil, around ten, but he hasn’t left his office since then.”

“Huh,” said Yuuri.

“Maybe he has headphones on?”

Yuuri thought that over. Then he knocked on the door, louder this time.

Again, nothing.

“Should we try opening the door?” In all the four years Yuuri had worked there, he hadn’t had to deal with this situation. Viktor was almost always at his office, hard at work making calls and digging up research.

“You can, but I’ll hang back,” Leo answered sheepishly, “I’m still new so, I don’t want to piss him off.”

Yuuri paused another moment. _Viktor probably wouldn’t be mad at me for just opening the door,_ he reasoned with himself, _Christophe is always barging into Viktor’s office unannounced. And even if he is mad, I’ll just apologize and he’ll forget about it within an hour or two._

And so, with his mind made, Yuuri twisted the handle and nudged the door open an inch. The lights were on, he noticed.

“Mr. Nikiforov?” Yuuri held his breath, waiting for the usual _Please, call me Viktor, Yuuri_ reply Viktor always gave him. In truth, Yuuri had no problem calling Viktor by his first name, but he enjoyed hearing Viktor’s response too much to stop.

Still, there was only silence.

Yuuri opened the door further. He slowly inched inside. But the office was empty. Yuuri frowned, glancing from side to side.

Did Viktor forget to turn off the light, or...?

But something didn’t feel right. Yuuri hesitated only a moment, and then stepped further inside.

At first glance, everything seemed normal. Everything was neatly in its place, except for the usual scattered pile of paperwork by the computer keyboard. Yuuri ran his eyes over the desk, and then paused at the top piece of paper. It was a photocopy of one of their articles, with large blocky words in black sharpie obscuring the majority of the print. It read:

_YOU SHALL PAY FOR THIS SLANDER, NIKIFOROV_

Yuuri’s heart seized. He grabbed the paper and looked at it more closely.

Ah, it was last week’s article Viktor had written about the city’s newest supervillain, Dark Puma. No one knew much of anything about him, except for his cat-themed costume and habit of stealing precious artifacts without being caught. While the rest of Detroit was panicking, Viktor had sought to ensure its citizens that Dark Puma had yet to harm anyone, and had actively avoided opportunities to do so. His conclusion, summed up in the last paragraph, was mostly unobscured through the scrawled threat:

_Even the nickname itself, Dark Puma, was gifted to him by the news coverage. In doing so, we have over-sensationalized an otherwise run-of-the-mill crook. It would not surprise me to find that the Dark Puma was merely a bored college student, robbing portraits to impress his friends. If it weren’t for his superpowers, which he seems reluctant to use (except in the cases in which he was almost caught), then I’d suggest to just leave his capture to the police. Either way, he is doing little more evil to this city than giving art collectors and superheroes a headache._

Dark Puma. Yuuri frowned, folded up the note, and stuffed it into his pocket. Then, he sent a quick text to Phichit, telling him where to meet.

—

Yuuri was twelve years old when he discovered that he had superpowers. Back then, he started training with a woman named Minako, who specialized in “breaking in” wannabe-superheroes. Now, over a decade later, Yuuri was one of the city’s top crime-fighters. They called him Freeze-Flame; it was a silly nickname that became impossible to get rid of, but it did fit fairly well. Yuuri could create and control fire with his right hand, and ice with his left.

Five years ago, around the same time Viktor revealed his true identity to the world, Phichit became Yuuri’s sidekick, as Electro.

Tonight, they stood atop the Ally Detroit Center building and discussed a plan of action.

“Dark Puma was last seen in the Detroit Financial District,” Phichit read off from his mobile phone. While Viktor no longer ran it, the website _Superhero Watch_ was still one of the most important tools the superhero community possessed. “Apparently he pulls a lot of heists in this area. But would he bring Viktor here?”

Yuuri hummed a noncommittal note. He was too worried to think properly, so he was leaving that bit to Phichit. Instead, he kept his eyes and ears wide open, desperate for a clue.

“Wait,” said Phichit suddenly, “Someone just posted something.” He paused to read it.

Yuuri waited, not daring to breathe.

“Oh my god, Dark Puma wrote it,” Phichit continued, “He says he’s holding Viktor for ransom. If he doesn’t get – fuck – half a million bucks by midnight, he’s going to… throw Viktor off of the top of the Renaissance Center. He put up a link to his _GoFundMe_ account.” Phichit tapped the screen with his thumb. “Whoa! He’s already got close to two hundred bucks.”

That didn’t surprise Yuuri. Viktor was one of the most beloved men of all of Michigan. Instead of responding, he turned his attention to the Renaissance Center. “He must be holding Viktor hostage up there,” he said.

“Alright, then let’s get going,” Phichit responded unnecessarily, because Yuuri had already taken off halfway through what he was saying.

Yuuri ran to the edge of the roof, and imagined the item he wanted to craft out of ice in his head. Then he took aim at the RenCen, opened his left palm, and shot out a line of ice at the building. The tip of it gripped the side like a dragon’s claw, while the other formed a glove around Yuuri’s hand. Then Yuuri imagined the hookshot-like device reeling him in, and low-and-behold, his powers obeyed. Sometimes, playing videogames really payed off.

Phichit, who could transport short distances in flashes of light, zipped on behind him.

Yuuri lunged onto the roof first, right hand already forming a flaming sword while his left shaped a shield to attach to his icy glove.

Phichit landed behind him, electricity sizzling between his fingers.

As expected, there were two figures on the roof. The first they knew: Viktor.

Viktor was wrapped up in rope, hands behind his back, and legs bound to the stool he was sitting on. In front of him was Dark Puma himself, in his punk and cat themed costume.

The latter whipped around at the intrusion. His frame was smaller than Yuuri had imagined.

“You?” Dark Puma hissed out, “Get back! Get back, or I’ll swear I’ll toss this man off of the roof!” He flashed them his clawed gloves for good measure, the tips of them sharpened like blades.

“Don’t worry, he really won’t!” That was Viktor. Despite his predicament, he was surprisingly cheerful. “He just wants to regain his reputation, but his threats are empty.”

“Shut up!” Dark Puma gripped Viktor’s hair and tugged him closer to the edge. “How sure are you of that, old man?”

“Don’t!” Yuuri stepped forward.

Phichit coughed. It was a secret signal they had developed. It meant _Use your superhero voice._

Yuuri lowered his tone. “Stop this, Dark Puma. What do you hope to accomplish with this gambit? Even if you get your money, the police will be able to trace your _GoFundMe_ back to you. And if you toss Nikiforov to his death, you’ll be making yourself an enemy of every superhero in this city. It’ll only be days before one of them catches up to you. Either way, you lose.”

Dark Puma paused at that. His fingers tugged harder at Viktor’s hair.

There was a moment of deliberation. Yuuri thought back to Chris’s profile of the guy. Surely the Dark Puma Viktor wrote about would want to avoid a direct confrontation with any superhero, right? Unless they had judged him wrong, of course.

As if to reassure Yuuri, Viktor called out again, “He won’t harm me, Freeze-Flame. I promise.”

“I will! If you step any closer, I swear I’ll throw him over!”

Yuuri glanced at Phichit.

Phichit shrugged. The choice was all up to Yuuri.

“Grab Viktor if he falls,” Yuuri instructed, and then he lunged directly at Dark Puma.

The feline villain swore, dodging backwards and letting go of Viktor’s hair. As Viktor predicted, his threat had been empty after all. 

Yuuri swung his sword in a large arc, sparks fizzling everywhere.

Dark Puma swore again. There was no way for him to defend himself against a weapon made entirely out of fire, and they both knew it. So instead he turned tail and tried to retreat.

Tried, because Phichit flash-stepped directly into his side, knocking Dark Puma to the ground.

Ice shot from Yuuri’s left fingers, ensnaring Dark Puma’s wrists in makeshift handcuffs. The weight of them anchored poor Dark Puma to the spot. Still, Yuuri pointed his blade to Dark Puma’s throat for good measure.

“This scam of yours is over, Dark Puma,” Yuuri spat.

“Please, don’t hurt him!” That was Viktor again. “He’s just a kid.”

Phichit zapped over to Viktor in order to untie him. “Wow, you’re awful forgiving of someone who just threatened to kill you,” he pointed out after he got Viktor back to his feet.

Viktor rubbed his arms, which had likely fallen asleep due to poor circulation. “Like I said, he’s just a kid.” He walked over to Yuuri and Dark Puma, looking delightfully unruffled despite the situation. Even his wind-blown hair still looked deliberate. “Someday, he might even decide to start using his powers for good.”

“As if!” Dark Puma growled up at Viktor.

Hearing that, Yuuri realized that Viktor was right. Dark Puma _was_ just a kid. Yuuri reached down and pulled off his mask.

Dark Puma, surprisingly, had somewhat of a cherub face, with emerald eyes and blond hair. His expression quickly melted from angry to surprise at the reveal. “I’m not a kid,” he argued, somewhat weakly, “I’m sixteen years old.”

“Sixteen!” Viktor gasped, surprised, “You don’t look sixteen. What’s your name?”

“As if I’d tell you!”

Yuuri sighed. He knew that they still had a long night ahead of them. “We should bring him in for questioning,” he told Phichit.

“No need,” Viktor interrupted.

“What?” Yuuri glanced at Viktor, surprised.

“ _What?_ ” Sixteen-year-old Dark Puma echoed.

“What?” Phichit said, not one to be left out.

Viktor turned to the fair-haired teenager and smiled. “Let’s cut a deal, Dark Puma. If you want, I can write another article about you. In this one, I’ll use your real name and face. You’ll be known as the scrawny little punk who tried and failed to be a supervillain, and be haunted by it for the rest of your life. Oooor, you can come with me, and I’ll sponsor your superhero training.”

“ _Huh?!_ ” Dark Puma was as perplexed as the rest of them. “Why in the _hell_ would you want to do that?”

“Face it,” Viktor said, “You’re not meant to be a supervillain. You aren’t cut out for this type of work. If you agree to come with me, you can shed the Dark Puma persona, and no one will ever know about this part of you. Instead, you can construct a new identity. But, if you’d rather become the laughingstock of next week’s publication, I can certainly arrange that.”

Yuuri stared at Viktor, dumbfounded. The man never ceased to surprise him.

Dark Puma glowered at them beneath his bangs. If looks could kill…

“Ugh, fine. What the fuck ever. But don’t expect me to thank you or anything.”

Viktor beamed. “Excellent! Now, let’s get back indoors where it’s warm, shall we?”

—

The next day, the office was, not surprisingly, abuzz with the news of last night. It was all anyone wanted to talk about.

“I wonder what happened to Dark Puma?”

“The police will catch up to him eventually, I’m sure.”

“I can’t believe that happened to Mr. Nikiforov. If it were me, I would have been terrified to go back to work so soon.”

But as it was, Viktor was perfectly happy. He smiled and recounted the events of last night (leaving out the deal he made with the youth Yuri Plisetsky, formerly known as the Dark Puma) as many times as people would listen to it.

It was impossible to focus on work, but Yuuri was determined to do so anyway. He glared at the blinking cursor on his laptop screen, willing a muse to come and inspire him. Now more than ever, he needed to write the perfect article celebrating the amazing, thoughtful good samaritan that was Viktor Nikiforov. Yuuri still couldn’t believe the unconditional forgiveness Viktor had shown the troubled teen, right after that stunt he pulled.

Still, Yuuri was doing far more dreamy musing than anything vaguely productive, so he startled in his seat when his name was called.

Yuuri glanced up.

“Yuuri,” Viktor repeated, “Can I see you in my office?”

Yuuri entered cautiously. He hoped that Viktor didn’t want details on the ‘Local Heroes’ article he was writing. He was a horrible liar.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Nikiforov?”

“Please, call me Viktor, Yuuri. How many times must I tell you that?” Viktor shook his head, feigning frustration. There was still a slight smile on his face that gave his true feelings away. “Anyway, I heard from Leo that we need some new profile pictures for the website, and he told me you were the one working on that.”

“Oh yes, that.” Yuuri ducked out of the office briefly to retrieve his camera.

When he returned, Viktor was sitting on the edge of his desk. It was the same casual pose he generally did for photos. “Is this alright?” He asked, “I’m sorry I couldn’t do this for you yesterday. I heard you were the first one to notice I was missing.”

Yuuri found himself blushing and stammering. “Please don’t apologize about getting kidnapped, sir,” he returned. “Um, maybe we could do a different type of shot this time? You’ve often seen lounging on your desk in photos, but I want to capture a different side to everyone this time around. Maybe with you standing by your framed articles over on the wall there?”

“Ah, that sounds so self-congratulating,” Viktor complained, but he moved to do as Yuuri asked. “You know,” he said as he tried different poses, “I met a couple of superheroes last night. It’s strange, I write about them so often, but I haven’t ever been face-to-face with one before.”

Yuuri nodded, and gave Viktor suggestions on how to stand.

Hardly listening, Viktor continued, “It really was a whole new experience. I’m not sure how to explain it, but there really is something thrilling about meeting a superhero up close, especially when you’re the one being saved. I’ve heard many women talking about it before, of course. They think it would be such a dream experience, to be saved by a buff man in tights. I’d never imagined that it would happen to me someday.”

“Viktor, your arm is still blocking your award.”

Viktor moved his arm. “One of the two who rescued me, Freeze-Flame, is really so much more handsome up close.”

Yuuri almost dropped the camera. “E-excuse me?”

“Really, he can carry me bridal style any day,” Viktor went on, ignoring Yuuri, “It’s a shame he didn’t need to carry me for any reason. Though, I did get a good look at his butt while he was chatting with the police. Such a good, round pair of buttocks on that one.”

Yuuri went still and pale. He searched Viktor’s sparkling eyes and twisted smile. “You know,” he said simply.

“We’ve worked together for four years,” Viktor affirmed, “Yuuri, I’d know your voice anywhere. So, thank you. Thank you for saving me, thank you for trusting me, and most of all, thank you for allowing me to save Dark Puma.”

Yuuri said nothing. His mouth was too dry to function properly.

Viktor stepped forward slowly. “I think,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, “When damsels are saved by superheroes, they’re supposed to give them a ‘thank you’ kiss in return.”

Yuuri’s eyes flickered down to Viktor’s mouth.

“But that would be unprofessional.” Viktor laughed at Yuuri’s wounded face. “So instead,” Viktor continued, “How about I treat you to dinner and a movie?”

“Yes,” said Yuuri automatically.

And then, despite his earlier words, Viktor gave Yuuri a quick peck on the cheek anyway. “Excellent. Does tonight work for you?”

—

After he heard what happened, Phichit just couldn’t stop laughing. He nearly fell off of his chair.

“It’s really not _that_ funny.”

“But it is!” Phichit’s delighted squeals of amusement finally died down. He put his hand over his wide smile, as though he was in the same state of joyful disbelief as Yuuri. “Well, it’s just as well things turned out this way,” he mused, “After you publish that article on Viktor, everyone was going to know you had the hots for him anyway.”

Yuuri blushed. But, he couldn’t deny it.

All he could hope for is that his article could surprise Viktor just as much as Viktor was always surprising him.


End file.
